Shall I Tell You
Shall I tell you a story of the time I found love?
Shall I tell you who broke my heart—
An angel, a demon; a blessed mix of the two.
A soul akin to my own, draped in sunny blonde hair,
Red lips like summer evening strawberries,
And eyes made for sinking and falling.
Shall I tell you how she struck without warning?
Shall I tell you how the ghost of her faded—
Without a note on the wall, or the air;
(I forget which is meant to come first.)
Shall I tell you how it tore me apart,
And left me with nothing?
Shall I tell you how the scraps were picked clean by scavengers—
Vultures I once called family?
Shall I tell you how their conniving, deceptive,
Lying, cheating, stealing ways
Had designed precisely these moments—
Like architects of my undoing?
Shall I tell you how they feared the monster,
Long before they created it?
Shall I tell you how silence became my only reply?
Shall I tell you what I became after the wreckage—
How the justice I sought began seeking me, too,
As if reality bent its will
In the face of tears dropped in silence?
Shall I tell you of the reckoning that is coming?
Or would you rather just believe I stayed broken?
